Sure I can
by writertron
Summary: sequel to "Watch me". In Which Yassen Realises The Consequences Of Certain Actions, And Alex Seeks Chocolate. ONESHOT. fem!alex


Sure I can

By Writertron

_sequel to "watch me", which follows "don't worry: I will"_

"_Nobody move!"_

They burst into the apartment, Wolf taking point with his automatic rifle covering the room, Eagle and Fox rolling to cover each flank with their own, smaller weapons. The occupant of the apartment looked up bemusedly from a copy of Tolstoy's _War and Peace_, a single blond eyebrow quirking at the intruders. Before he could speak, another man entered, limping slightly, shaking his head, giving Wolf exasperated looks.

"May I help you?" the occupant asked coolly, moving to reach for a bookmark.

"Don't move!" Wolf yelled again. The man gave him a look. "Put the book down and stand up with your hands where I can see them!" He calmly obeyed, with something suspiciously like amusement in his ice-blue eyes. "Name?"

"Yassen Gregorovich," he replied clearly, curious to see that simultaneous to the usual awe and fear in the lead soldier's gaze – he looked likely to be SAS, perhaps – there was something like relief. Why was that?

The silent tableau was suddenly broken by the limping man. Yassen noted that he carried himself like a soldier as well, and was evidently used to the injury. Discharged, no doubt. He watched, curiosity growing, as he rolled blue eyes, going up to the leader's side and pushing the barrel away. "She's pissed," he said in a low but clearly audible tone. "Don't make it worse."

Yassen was beginning to catalogue the possibilities of who "she" could be, when familiar swift, angry footsteps sounded in the corridor outside his apartment. Incredulous, his gaze shifted to the open doorway.

Alex stormed into the room, completely disregarding K-Unit as she strode across the intervening space and slapped the bloody assassin across the face. _"Bastard!"_ she hissed.

Yassen raised a hand to the rapidly developing bruise, blinking several times in confusion. "Alex…"

"Do you have _any_ idea how hard you are to find?" she demanded, brown eyes spitting in fury, face set in anger. "I've been through _every_ major city in Europe, _twice_ through St Petersburg, following _hundreds_ of false leads…"

He tried not to be amused. He really did – Alex was evidently angry, and for her to be trying to track him down signified something of importance – but the sight of her in front of him, quivering in rage was just too much. A smile touched the corner of his mouth. "Cub, I'm _supposed_ to be difficult to find," he interrupted in a reasonable tone of voice. "It stops MI6 and the SAS bursting into my home to point guns at me." He was aware of the three armed men shifting uncomfortably at that, relaxing somewhat at the revelation that he knew where they were from and still hadn't killed them yet.

"… and I was seriously considering getting myself _kidnapped_ since that's the only time you ever turn up, but Snake said that it was such a bad idea he would call MI6 and tell them where I was if I moved out of his sight, and Fox said that if you hadn't noticed us rampaging through Europe looking for you then there was no way you'd notice if I got kidnapped again…"

Yassen decided that, amusing as this tirade was, it was time she stopped ranting. He reached out and tucked a trailing strand of soft blonde hair behind her ear, fingertips lingering on her cheek in a tender caress. She instantly shut up, watching him with wide eyes. He couldn't suppress a smug smile. "I thought you weren't interested, cub," he said slyly.

Alex instantly blushed so brightly she was glowing. "I'm _not!"_ she snapped.

His smile widened into a smirk, leaning down to put his mouth next to her ear. He could hear her breath catch, knew her heart was racing. "Really?" he murmured, feeling her shiver as his lips brushed her cheek. He straightened up to look down at her triumphantly.

She cleared her throat, suddenly unable to meet his eyes. "I'm not," she muttered.

Yassen sighed patiently. "Remind me to discuss the term "denial" with you later, cub." He was aware of the soldiers watching them stifling sudden smirks, one in particular choking back laughter.

She blushed again, cheeks fiery red. "Shut _up,_ Eagle!" Another of them snorted and she turned to glare. "You too, Fox!" She spun back to Yassen, poking him in the chest, eyes narrow. "I am _not_ in denial." He smirked down at her, eyes smouldering, and she was suddenly very aware of how close to her he was. Her breath did _not_ hitch as she gazed up at him, heart definitely _not_ suddenly hammering, trying to convince herself that no, she really was _not_ imagining…

Snake coughed loudly, breaking the moment. They both glared at him and he held his hands up in a classic "I surrender" pose. "So, Alex, do you still need us here?"

Alex stiffened, realisation crashing down on her as she recalled the reason why, exactly, tracking down an internationally wanted assassin had been a _good_ idea. She couldn't stop a sudden moment of panic assaulting her. "I…"She trailed off. She didn't want them to leave her here alone, but she really didn't want to be explaining why.

Wolf, for once in his life, seemed to have a moment of empathy. "We're staying until the job's done," he said decisively. "Right, Cub?"

Alex barely had time to gasp before Yassen had an arm wrapped possessively around her, stepping forward and bringing his gun arm up before anyone had realised what he was doing. For a long moment all she could do was tell herself how much she was _not_ delighting in the warm, comforting embrace, the feeling of being protected, the strong, lean, masculine body that she was pressed against.

Wolf froze at the sight of the gun. Where had the assassin got it? More importantly: was he going to shoot? He very much doubted he'd be able to dodge in time. What had just happened?

Snake broke the silence. "Alex," he said calmly, gaze fixed on the gun aimed unwaveringly at Wolf's head. "Any help here?"

She peeked out from where her face was pressed against the assassin's chest. She blinked once, eyes darting up to Yassen's face, then across to Wolf, before she gave a half-shrug. "I don't think he likes other people calling me "cub"."

Fox grinned. "I don't think you do, either," he commented, remembering all the times she had snapped at them, and he only smiled wider at the venomous look the teenager shot him way.

Wolf blinked, nonplussed. What was he supposed to do about that? "Try apologising," Eagle suggested cheerfully, as if there was no life-or-death situation occurring in front of him. "Always worked for me."

Wolf hesitated, unnerved by the unblinking stare the assassin has pinned him under. "Uh… sorry?"

The gun wavered slightly, then abruptly vanished. Yassen looked down at Alex. "You don't like other people calling you "cub"?" he asked, amusement in his voice.

She blushed again – damn it, why did she blush so easily around him? – and broke away from his hold, stalking towards the kitchen. She mumbled something to the effect of "chocolate" as she left, determined to find some comfort food and sort her thoughts out. This was going to go wrong, she knew it… She yanked a cupboard open, ignoring the slim rack of throwing knives attached to the door, eyeing the contents menacingly. There had better be some chocolate around here, or Yassen was _really_ going to regret it… She was amused to find that, exactly like the now-empty apartment in Paris, all his food was arranged in neat Tupperware boxes, labelled in Russian in neat black marker pen. She slammed the cupboard shut and moved down the kitchen, searching for Ш. She rummaged through the containers, temper rising. "Where the hell is the chocolate?" she yelled in frustration, hurling an offensively chocolate-free tub onto the floor.

Soft laughter came from the doorway. "Such impatience," Yassen chided lightly, and Alex was so very _not_ blushing, since those two words had _never_ been spoken to her in connection with chocolate and the assassin as he leaned over her and licked her skin clean…

"Where is it?" she demanded wildly. She needed chocolate _now_, and no assassins were going to get in her way.

He held her gaze for a long moment, a faint frown forming between his eyes. "In the fridge."

Alex dove at the fridge and hauled out a box of truffles in triumph, almost crooning as she bit into the smooth, cool piece of heaven. She savoured the taste for a long moment, swallowing, then inspiration hit her. "You know what would make these even better?" she asked seriously. Yassen quirked an eyebrow enquiringly. "Marmite." She nodded decisively and went back to the cupboards, rifling through them with no care for the ordered system she was ruining.

"Cub," he said, somewhat bewildered. "You don't _like_ marmite."

She paused for a long moment, then: "I'm not even going to _ask _how you know that." She continued her search.

"Cub…" She had to stop this time, his hand closing over hers, his body suddenly at her back. "What's the matter?"

Alex suddenly felt overwhelmed tears prickling at the back of her eyes. She was only eighteen, she shouldn't be having to deal with this… "Nothing?" It came out as a question and she wanted to curse herself, her free hand instinctively going to her stomach.

He turned her around and placed a hand on each shoulder, ice-blue eyes catching her gaze and trapping her. "You don't sound so sure," he told her.

She swallowed. "I'm sure," she lied.

He hummed in his throat, continuing to watch her, evidently not believing a word of it. "And yet you bribe, blackmail and guilt your old training unit – who hadn't seen each other in three years – into helping you dodge MI6, SCORPIA and the intelligence agency of every country you pass through and spend two months searching for me?"

She shifted uneasily. "I needed the help."

He frowned. "You've never asked for help before," he reminded her. "Not even to save your life." She dropped her eyes and muttered something. He slid two fingers under her chin and tipped her head back up to face him. "Once again, audibly." She muttered slightly louder and he blinked in surprise. "Moral support and protection?"

Her eyes flashed defensively. "That's what I said!" He opened his mouth again but she cut him off, anger flaring up as fast as a match on dry hay. "And you want to know _why?_" He remained silent, watching her carefully. "I'll _tell_ you, then, shall I?" Her voice had reached hysterical in pitch, eyes wild. "It's because _somebody_ never gave me a way to contact him! And guess what?" She was teetering on the edge now, swinging wildly between laughing and crying. "This _thoughtless, idiotic bastard_ of an assassin got me _pregnant!"_

Silence, dead silence, interrupted only by Alex's shuddering breaths and the ticking of a clock in the other room. Yassen mouthed the word in disbelief – _pregnant?_ – before blinking out of his shock to register the state of the beautiful, fiery young woman who had told him this. Instinctively, he wrapped his arms around her, holding her close so she could listen to his heartbeat, feel protected and soothed, stroking her hair as she clung to him, sobbing. "Cub…" he whispered.

Aeons later, her sobs dying away to the occasional hiccup, Yassen saw one of the unit – Snake, the limping one, who identified himself as a medic instructor since his injury – appear in the doorway. "She should sleep," he said quietly.

Yassen nodded, gently scooping her up, holding her close as he made his was out the kitchen and through to his bedroom, laying her down and gently removing her shoes, pulling the covers half over her. She snuggled into the softness, relaxing, comfortable to remain in her sleepy half-awareness. He looked up to see all four men standing in the doorway, watching his cub with worried eyes.

"She's been tense ever since she found out," Fox suddenly said, keeping his voice low. "The first I knew of it was her bursting into my office at the bank, informing me hysterically that she was cashing in all the favours I owed her right now. We're pretty certain that MI6 don't know the reason we all disappeared." Yassen nodded appreciatively. Fox held his loyalty to real people before his loyalty to a faceless cause. It was the mark of a reliable and trustworthy person. And Alex really didn't need Blunt after her, demanding to know the father of her child… He mentally winced at the idea.

Wolf cleared his throat, obviously uncomfortable. "So you'll look after her, then?"

Yassen looked at him. "Yes," he said simply.

Alex's eyes opened slightly, the soft drowsiness unable to cover the swirl of doubt in them. "You can't mean it."

Yassen saw all her doubts and fear, her tenuous hope, and suddenly smirked at her. "Sure I can."

_Hmm… this turned out more serious than the others…. I hope it was still amusing in places, and the serious bits didn't spoil anything. I couldn't find a way of making the last part realistically funny, considering the way my characters have turned out. Hope you liked it anyway!_


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